The Innocent
by ObsessedRomantic
Summary: Sequel to 'The Shape Things Are In', 4th in the Townwood Exit AU. Certain truths are revealed in the aftermath of the events of the carnival. Has Kirsten returned too late? RT, SS, touch of SK
1. Sandy

**The Innocent**

**Summary: **Certain truths are revealed in the aftermath of the events of the carnival. Has Kirsten returned too late? Sequel to The Shape Things Are In – the Townwood Exit Universe. RT, SS, mild SK.

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own any of the characters (from the show, anyway). Please don't sue, I'm just having fun. (cue evil laughter)

**A/N: **A little temporal rewind, kind of a short chapter. And yes, I stole a line from Waltzy. Hope she doesn't mind?

-- xxx –

Sandy frowned at the sound of the door. He'd seen the boys off a couple of hours ago, joining Seth in teasing Ryan about his reaction to Taylor's outfit. It was the standard Cohen response to tension; and it'd been working for the past five days. All week, he'd watched his adopted son deal with the current situation with a mature and, if not upbeat, at least a** positive** attitude. The longer the petitions got, the more hopeful he was that the outcome would be in their favor. Every time the blond boy stopped participating in the plans for senior year; one of his friends would pull him back into the discussion. Sandy no longer thought the lessons were entirely about swimming; nor did he think tonight just about the boy's 'first official date' with young Miss Townsend. He had to hand it to the girl, her distractions were top-notch, and very well disguised. This early a return, however, had his stomach tightening with fear. Something had happened. Turning off the television, he wandered into the foyer, wondering why he hadn't heard their excited, teenage ramblings.

''Hello, Sandy.''

''Oh my God.'' For a split second, he thought he was dreaming; then he was across the room, enfolding his beloved wife in his arms. She clutched him back, the feel of her, the smell: this **was** Kirsten. ''I can't believe it.'' Concern released his grip and he stepped back, hands on her shoulders. Grey eyes searched green worriedly. ''Are you okay? I would've come to get you, why didn't you call me? Is this all your bags? I can unpack, do you want to rest? Hungry, I bet you're hung…..'' Her gentle fingers covered his mouth, amusement dancing over her face. He saw what she wanted to say; their son's name was all over her expression. He shrugged, grinning his response against her fingertips. ''Well, at least he comes by it honestly.''

''I wanted to surprise you.'' She told him, smiling at him affectionately. The way she used to, before everything came apart. Their conversations this past month, with the counselors; had obviously been a great idea. He could feel them connecting, just standing in their foyer, smiling at each other; with her luggage at their feet.

''You were successful.'' He rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms, not wanting to ask, wanting to relax in the comfort of having her home, at last. Things unspoken, lies of omission; that was what had broken things, last time. This time would be different. No more secrets. Well, except **one**, he decided, thinking of Hailey. That one he'd take to his grave. Kirsten was reaching for her bags, opening her mouth to answer his unspoken question. He pushed his last thoughts back into their closet and grabbed up the light weight of her suitcases.

''The doctors gave me a clean bill of health.'' She followed him to the bedroom, depositing her purse on the dresser. ''In fact, they were amazed I waited this long. Apparently, I've been ready for the past two weeks.'' Sandy snorted.

''With all due respect, you weren't ready until you were ready.'' He set the bags on their bed, turning to hug his wife again. A small part of him still couldn't believe she was back, so he needed the contact to confirm her presence. He strangled the desire to confirm more than her return; they needed to talk about their family more than they needed to resume their marital activities. Knowing that she was going to sleep beside him that night made putting off their resumption of wedded bliss easier to bear. Well, it made it a **little** easier. ''I'm just glad you're home.''

''I guess I just needed a kick in the pants.'' Her teasing tone confused him and he frowned, raising his eyebrows at her in confusion. She raised her own eyebrows back at him expectantly, obviously thinking he knew what she was talking about. ''The young lady who came to see me? The one from Harbor.''

''What young……'' His brain clicked together and he actually jerked his head back in shock. At first, he was angry. How **dare** she presume to meddle in this situation, to interfere with his **wife**? Of course, he hadn't minded last year; when Ryan had pried the woman out of her own closet with a few softly spoken words ……….No, he couldn't be angry, not really. When he thought about it, he was simply amazed at how much the two kids really **did **have in common, once you stripped away the facades of their backgrounds to their true characters. ''Taylor.'' He shook his head. No wonder she hadn't wanted to tell them about her 'secret plan'; he never would've allowed her to try. Not to mention how crushed everyone would've been if it hadn't worked.

''Who's Taylor?'' She asked him, crossing her arms over her chest. It had been so long since he'd seen her do that; become 'The Kirsten', that he didn't have any choice but to kiss her. He kept it brief, looking forward to her reaction to the news of Ryan's new romantic situation. One thing for sure, adopting that boy had certainly kept things interesting.

Sandy herded his wife into the living room, fetching her a cup of coffee and the leftovers from last night's 'Mademoiselle Stardust origin party' before starting his tale. He opened bluntly; with the discovery of Trey's attack and the breakup: the reasons behind which he relayed as Seth had explained it to him. Almost word for word as his son had laid it out for him; lightening the grim news with their boy's customarily sarcastic wording. Harder to relate was the two week period Ryan had spent spiraling down into violent depression with his cage fighting (and other activities that the boy still wouldn't talk about). He still woke up in a cold sweat, remembering the nights the pool house had lain empty, the nights he'd actually **hoped** the boy was only passed out drunk in some nameless girl's bed.

Kirsten listened, smiling a bit when he told about Kaitlyn's rescue; which led to their adopted son's return, at least in part. A smile that faded as he skimmed over the subsequent two months: the silences (even for their quieter son, long ones), the blank stares, the long hours sitting in the dark. He couldn't quite keep the humor out of his voice, telling her about the last, incredible week. The encounter on the beach (what he knew of it), the shopping trips, the unbelievable way the girl had handled their ward in the midst of his disappointed rage. That part of the story made his wife flush guiltily, and he paused in his speech to lay an understanding hand on her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she quietly asked him to finish. He wound up the threat of Hess in as positive a manner as he could, concentrating more on the petitions and his own planned address of the board, tomorrow afternoon; trying to give the impression that the situation was already secure. She sat for the longest time, green gaze unfocused; thinking.

''She was right.'' His wife said, setting her cup on the coffee table. ''I have missed a lot.'' Sandy shook his head at the guilt in her tone.

''You were in no condition to have helped, sweetheart.'' He kissed her forehead, attempting to convey how much he respected her strength, doing this for their family. He'd told her as much, in their counseling sessions; he never got tired of saying it, though. He put his arms around her, settling her head on his shoulder. 'You needed to fix yourself, first. That took a lot of courage, even to try; and you've succeeded, just as I always knew you would.''

''I just wish I could've been here.'' She sighed, relaxing into his embrace. They watched the night for a while, just enjoying this quiet moment of reunited peace. She stirred, finally; reaching for her now-cold coffee. ''How's Seth?''

''Over the moon.'' He gathered up the rest of the dishes from their snack, proceeding her into the kitchen. ''Taylor's into anime, so he finally has someone to talk to about that, which he's missed since Anna went back to Pittsburgh. He and Summer haven't broken up **once** since you left, I think they're finally settling down into a mature relationship. Or as a mature a relationship as our son is capable of. Not to mention his excitement over a whole new character for his comic book. He's actually looking forward to school, this year; but that may just be because it's his senior year.'' She made a satisfied noise, refreshing her coffee. He smiled, topping off his own cup on the way back to the couch. ''I think he's more enthused about Ryan being in drama club than Ryan is. The teasing that boy has put up with, this week.'' He shook his head in amusement, recalling the glares and embarrassed glances.

''Ryan's in drama?'' She snorted into her cup, eyeing him with mock distrust as she sat. ''Okay, now you're just making things up.''

''Seriously, he……'' The last sound in the world he wanted to hear, just then, cut across his voice; releasing tension into the room. Glad as he was to see the boys, to see their surprise at who was sitting on the couch with him; he couldn't help but notice that the girl's weren't with them. It was the look on Ryan's face, though, that sent terror spiking into his heart, gut, and brain. Shame, rage, despair, guilt, horror, and fear were stamped so boldly onto his feature, Sandy heard his wife gasp the very obscenity he was thinking just before she surged to her feet. She was intercepted by Seth, who threw his arms around her with a glad cry; clutching her in such utter relief, his father was amazed the boy remained upright. He focused in on their other son, standing slowly so as not to make him bolt. ''What happened?''


	2. Ryan

''Mom!'' Seth cried, hugging the woman like she was a life preserver. She returned the embrace, closing her eyes and smiling. It was a beautiful sight, and Ryan let it wash over him, treasuring another good thing from this disaster of a night. He needed all the good thoughts to keep it together until he could get to the pool house.

'"What happened?'' He blinked, focusing on Sandy. His promise was practically written across the other man's face and he wished, for the first time, that he'd never made it. Kirsten was barely in the door, and his stupid loss of temper was going to ruin what should be a happy moment for their family. Could you** be** any more of a fuck-up? mental Trey asked him.

''Is that blood?'' Little details could make or break a deal, and she'd been Newport Group's golden child for years; so he really should've expected her to notice the smear, even on a black shirt. He'd forgotten, over the summer, just how observant she could be. ''Where are you hurt?'' Her green eyes flicked from one boy to the other, frowning as she put her son at arms length to inspect him more carefully. ''Which one of you is …''

''It's not us.'' He didn't want to, he really didn't want to; but Sandy looked determined, and she had 'The Kirsten' look on. You really remembered she was Caleb Nichol's daughter when she did that. He sighed, dropping his eyes to the floor, feeling like the scum Julie had once thought he was. ''I tried to kill someone.'' Small though the evasion was, it put a bitter taste in his mouth. He swallowed, feeling even more ashamed of himself. ''I attacked Dean Hess.'' From her gasp of realization, he knew that she'd been brought up to speed on **that** situation, at least. He couldn't bring himself to raise his gaze, to see the disappointment in any of their faces. He especially didn't want to see the fear; not like he'd seen it in Taylor's hazel eyes. The thought still made him sick, that he'd frightened his girlfriend, that he wasn't so different from his father and brother, after all. He shied away from thinking he'd never see her again, she was stronger than that. She'd tell him it was over face to face, despite how much he terrified her.

''Dude, that was totally in defense of Taylor…'' Seth started trying to cheer him up, he would've appreciated it more if her name didn't make him feel desperate and weak. He focused on the other part of his current crises, the part he could actually fix.

If there'd been witnesses…….he really couldn't say, himself. He'd seen Hess yanking her around and his vision had narrowed redly to those two people, that one figure standing over his girlfriend……..His fists clenched and he pulled his attention back to the conversation that could save his future. The bag in his room was starting to look like nirvana, there was so much running through him right now he thought he might be sick, again.

''You saw it?'' He asked, lifting his gaze to peer at his brother; frowning when the dark head shook. No, of course not. Which brought it to his word against the Dean's; since no one had seen it go down. He knew what** that** was going to sound like, with the whole town aware of the older man's threats. No one would believe Taylor, either; not with their relationship common knowledge as well. For as long as it was still going, anyway.

''Here, let's sit down.'' Kirsten suggested, herding them both to seats in the living room. He appreciated the gesture, he was almost shaking from adrenaline overload. Good thing the hearing was in the afternoon; when he crashed from this, it was going to be ugly. He rested his forearms on his knees, still lacking the courage to look anyone in the face. ''Now, tell us what happened.''

Her gentle tone reminded him so strongly of another understanding female that his throat closed up. He wanted her here, so he could feel like he was worth something. He'd give anything to look into her eyes right now, and see that affectionate faith; even though he'd probably never see it again. Softly, hesitantly, he laid out the events of the past half hour. Leaving the carousel with Taylor, her increasing nervousness; the make-out session by the exit. The last made him blush a little, but he skipped over it, moving his story along to the fight with Dean Hess. He let Seth tell about what he'd seen (just the last part, him on the ground with Jack gloating over him) and swallowed against despair when the other admitted that he hadn't witnessed anything else.

''Well, that's probably her plan.'' Sandy pointed out, sounding both relieved and wary. ''She's asking for witnesses to step forward, telling them about the hearing.''

''If they don't know already. '' Seth added. There was a rustle of fabric, probably the guy shifting in his seat. ''Those petitions certainly helped alert everyone to the snake among us. You should've seen how the other faculty members reacted; I swear Miss Landers' eyes actually flashed as she leapt to your defense, and she hates everybody. The guy is not a people person, not from the way his co-worker's were falling over themselves to oppose him.''

''Still, I should go down there; make sure there's no question about tampering.'' He heard the older man rise, and rose himself, protesting.

''Dad, you shouldn't take off on her first night back.'' The older man blinked at him, looking stunned. What had he said? Even Seth looked surprised, gaping at him from his slouch next to his mother. Kirsten stood up, the doting look on her face distracting him.

''I think I can spend a few hours with my boys.'' She kissed her frozen husband on the cheek, startling him into moving. He pecked her back, starting to look for his keys.

''Right, it won't take long.'' Sandy promised, hugging them both briefly. ''I'll see the girls get home all right.'' Was it his imagination, or was the hug he received tighter than the one Seth had been given? Maybe the man just thought he needed the comfort more, with all that was happening tonight. ''Gotta make sure there are charges brought against that guy, too. This is the second time he's laid hands on a student, witnesses or not; and he's not going to get away with it.'' Still muttering about legal actions, the head of the family left.

''So, that's handled.'' Kirsten said, reseating herself gracefully on the couch. She looked so normal, so much like the way she'd been before; he shared a smile of relief with his brother. It was good to have her back, and she seemed to be handling things with her old composure. They both resumed their seats as she settled back with her coffee cup. ''Seth, how are things with Summer?''

He listened to his brother chatter on about his favorite subject, rehashing every conversation the couple'd had since the older woman had left for rehab. Eventually he ran out of parent-safe material and started talking about the other members of the family. Ryan hadn't known the other boy had paid such close attention to events outside himself. He felt a touch of guilt, seeing how he'd hurt the other with his mistakes. His brother wasn't blaming him, though; just relating events in his typical humorous (and somewhat self-involved) fashion. There was a brief mention of Marissa and he shook his head reassuringly at Kirsten's worried look. He wasn't letting her affect him, anymore; it was the stories about the new girl in his life that was making his stomach ache with tension. He kept flashing on the look on her face, in her eyes; the quiver to her voice as she called out to him to stop. He'd seen fear like that in a woman before, but never because of him. Every time he tried to think about it, tried to tell himself she was an understanding, compassionate person; self-disgust punched him in the gut and his doubts told him he didn't deserve her.

Seth started the third story involving Taylor, regaling the woman beside him with 'the swimming lessons'. Knowing that she'd never be able to trust him like that again, that she might actually flinch from him, next time………He couldn't take it. He stood up, mumbling some excuse about being tired, and escaped to the pool house. Let the other boy bond with his mother, let her relax into being home with the better son. He needed to get a grip, needed to adjust to what was going to happen; if he even could. First step, dispel the fucking rage and swirl of fearful guilt. He dropped his jacket on the chair, pausing only briefly to wrap his hands before delivering the first, satisfying blow.

His imaginary opponent had been reduced to a pulp twice before he admitted it wasn't working this time. He was still as angry as he'd been when he'd started, still as prone to seeing the reaction in her eyes when she'd seen a side of him he'd hoped was gone (or at least buried) for good. He choked, backing away from the bag, as her face replaced Hess' under his fists. He shook his head, stumbling over to sit (fall, really) onto the end of his bed. He put his head in his hands, feeling moisture in his eyes. He'd do anything to prevent that image of Taylor cringing, face bloody, from coming true; but if he really **was** his father's son……..

''Sandy can handle this.'' Kirsten was there, coming over to him from the doorway. He watched her carefully, marking off more of the signs of her recovery on his mental list. She really **has** come back, he thought to himself; recognizing the difference between her behavior and Dawn's, the **one** time his mother had gone to AA, during her involvement with Steve. She'd acted hesitant around him, defensive. This woman sat a bottle of water on the floor near his feet, taking a seat next to him on the bed; confident and at ease with herself and with him. He tried looking at her, but couldn't maintain the contact. Her green eyes reminded him of hazel, her trust rubbed uncomfortably against the awareness of the trust he'd lost. ''Or is this about Taylor?'' He couldn't keep from wincing at the name, looking at his hands. Somehow, he still expected to see blood on his right; flexing his fingers to make sure he was actually staring at **his** hands. ''What is it?''

''Taylor……'' God, he sounded pathetic. What he couldn't say to Seth's chatter or Sandy's affability; could he really confess it to her hard-won composure? But she was a woman, she'd be able to understand in a way no one else could. It was the thought that maybe it'd make it easier to talk to his girlfriend, later; when she told him goodbye that decided him. ''She's afraid of me.'' Kirsten made a sound of disbelief and he frowned, wondering if he'd seen an understanding where there was only curiosity. ''I saw her face, when she told me to stop, when I was…….She's afraid.''

''Did you ever think that maybe she was afraid **for** you?'' His head shot around to stare, gaping, at her; the thought bursting through the miasma he'd been stewing in like a lightning bolt. He was frozen, trying to consider her question reasonably. ''She came to see me, you know.'' He twitched, wondering when…….oh shit, of course.

''The secret plan.'' He smiled, remembering that heady feeling of trust, of faith. Not** from** Taylor, but **towards** her. Fuck, he was such an idiot, not to have remembered that. Good thing he hadn't said anything (to anyone else); he wouldn't have the humiliation of trying to apologize for his stupidity. He had to stop doing that, giving in so readily to his fears. Did he want to be happy, or not? Then he had to stop being a moron and have faith in the people around him, especially Taylor. Remembering everything he knew about the girl, everything he'd seen in her hazel eyes ……..yeah, he was a first-class retard, all right, to have ever doubted their connection.

''Secret plan?'' At his confused look, the woman smiled at him, shrugging. ''Sandy didn't tell me everything, and Seth's stories were a little……''

''One-sided?'' She laughed, and he felt his world tilt back towards good, the mix of negative emotions draining away from him with her amused glance. He picked up the bottle of water, washing the bitter taste from his mouth. ''Sure. What do you want to know?''

''I'm your mother, Ryan.'' She told him teasingly, folding her hands expectantly on her crossed knees. ''Tell me everything. Well ……'' Kirsten frowned, he could practically see the times she'd walked in on him and a girl swimming in her gaze. ''…..maybe not **everything**.'' He laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, unwinding the rags from around his hands.

''How much time have you got?''

He talked. He talked more than he had to anyone in months, save the girl under discussion. Sometimes, he had to look away and pause, overcome with one emotion or another. He found himself telling her things he hadn't confessed to Sandy; the romantic, mushy stuff he didn't dare tell her other son. She listened, she advised; she was every inch the doting mother she'd been with Seth, when he'd been going on (and on and on) about Summer. She teased him a little, telling him he was 'cute'; but he'd taken worse this past week. Finally, the only things left to say about his girlfriend were the ones he couldn't tell anyone; that would make them both uncomfortable, anyway. He knew his adopted mother didn't want to hear about how Taylor's scent lingered around him, making it hard to think. She probably didn't want to know how a touch could blank his mind, or the effect a look could have on him. And she definitely wouldn't want to hear about the kisses, the fire that flared out of control whenever …….

Okay, he needed to **stop**. The last thing he needed was to get hard in front of his **mother**.

''I still don't know about this drama club.'' Kirsten said, giving him a teasingly doubtful look as she stood. She shook her head, smiling. ''I wouldn't put it past you and Sandy to be having me on.''

''Guess you'll just have to come to a meeting, then.'' Ryan suggested, wondering how much he'd take from Trevor (to start with) for having his 'mom' drop by. He lay back on the mattress as she left, hands behind his head, thinking. How was he going to get out of explaining what an idiot he'd been to his girl (unlikely) and what would the apology cost him in pride? Lots, he thought morosely. Totally worth it, though, to gain her forgiveness for being such a (chicken) dumbass.

''And Ryan?'' He saw her paused in the doorway, expression supportive. And mischievous, he realized, when the door shut on her parting words. ''You're a teenage boy. She already knows you're an idiot.''


	3. Kirsten

**A/N: **At long, long last: the hearing.

-- xxx –

''Oh my God, Kiki!''

She was enfolded into the enthusiastic embrace of Julie Cooper, the only person (left) on the planet who was allowed to call her **that** name. Kirsten figured her friend (and former mother-in-law, but she wasn't thinking of that) deserved some leeway for not taking the traditional Newpsie path of shunning their 'fallen' friends. The woman's gossipy letters had actually been a help at Suriak, ending as they did with the phrase 'you can do it'. Unexpected as it was, the unwavering support had meant a great deal.

And the catty observations of the powerful elite had actually made her laugh, which was a treasure.

''Hello, Julie.'' She hugged the other woman back, truly glad to see her. It was a better welcome than the other women were offering, looking at her nervously and whispering.

''You look good.'' Julie held her out at arm's length, roving an assessing green gaze over her chinos, sensible shoes, and subdued burgundy blouse. ''In fact, you look **fab**ulous. Maybe I should get committed, if this is the result.'' Kirsten shook her head at her friend's typically frank manner of speech, more touched by the honest welcome in her voice. ''You should have told me you were coming, I would've thrown a party.''

''Julie.'' Sandy sounded amusedly tolerant and she was glad the two had finally managed to make peace. It had only taken them fifteen years, after all. Fifteen years, and trying to handle her father's company together.

''Sandy.'' The other woman tossed it off casually, flicking a well-manicured hand at him. Her eyes landed on Kirsten's right, and she heard her son take a bracing breath, realizing that this was probably the first time the two former antagonists had been face to face since Kaitlyn's rescue. ''Hello, Ryan.'' Before he had a chance to respond, there was a commotion at the door to the meeting room.

''All right, just calm down!'' She recognized Zach Stevens from his involvement with her other son's comic book venture. He was motioning for attention from the milling students in the crowded hallway. ''Since students can't address the board, they're not going to allow us inside. Hey…..'' as several disappointed voices started complaining ''….. at least they're leaving the door open, okay? Best I could do.'' There was scattered muttering, but the teenagers found places to settle, some of them filing out of the room, obviously yielding seats to the entering adults. And were those placards? God, did that take her back. Sandy, too, from the look on his face.

''I got our seats.'' Seth was back, still nearly vibrating with nervous energy. She wished she could think of another task to assign him, another errand to send him on. Just watching him fidget was tiring, and she was reminded of the urge she'd had (often) when he was a child, to give him some pot, just to get a few moments peace and quiet. Only the knowledge it probably wouldn't work (not to mention that it was **wrong**) had stopped her from trying it. ''Summer's holding them, and Doctor Roberts is here. He says he's willing to speak up for Ryan, if you need him to, Dad.''

'"That's good, son.'' Her husband's voice was falsely upbeat, motioning the boys to proceed him into the room. His grey eyes landed on her face and she tried to smile supportively. The news, last night, that there hadn't **been** any witnesses to the altercation, was depressing. He'd been later then she liked, getting in nearly at two; having spent most of the time convincing Taylor to go home. The girl had apparently been calling out to total strangers, tearfully begging someone, anyone to come forward. Kirsten knew how she felt. Without corroborating testimony, it was the word of two teenagers against a faculty members'. And with his record……

''Guess they were too cheap to spring for the lions.'' Ryan attempted to joke, shrugging when she frowned at him. Of all the times to show a sense of humor. It was typical of him, though; typical of their whole family, really. She recalled his half-serious request to build him a 'model home'; it seemed so long ago, now. Kirsten took his arm, letting it look like he was the one escorting her to the three reserved chairs, up front; where his new girlfriend was already sitting. It was a good thing they'd had Summer holding them, she'd never seen so many people at a school board meeting.

''Hello, Mrs. Cohen.'' The girl stood, sticking out her hand in greeting. ''We were never formally introduced. I'm….''

''Taylor.'' Kirsten shook hands, frowning at the young lady's split lip, the bruise on her cheek. ''You've looked better.''

''Why, thank you!'' She sounded so **moved** by such a simple compliment. There must've been something her son left out during last night's talk; he'd said she was confident and self-assured.

''Looks like kissing is out for a while.'' Ryan took the girl's chin between a thumb and forefinger, smiling a little; even wider when she bopped him on the shoulder. She was cheered to see it, to see him able to let go, even briefly, of the weight he was carrying. For that instant, he was nothing more than a boy laughing with his girlfriend.

''Yuck, teenage hormones.'' Sandy griped teasingly, chuckling at the dark looks he got from both their boys. ''Hey, if you can complain about us; we can complain about you.'' Further levity was interrupted by the board members filing in, the room falling quiet in expectation.

Everyone took their seats, Sandy patting her knee soothingly; whether for her comfort or his was unclear. Veronica Townsend glared at her daughter, motioning her towards the door. Kirsten saw the girl deliberately avert her gaze, choosing instead to focus her attention on linking fingers with Ryan. Dean Jack Hess was easily identifiable from the bruising on his face and the way he glared hatefully at her son, who dropped his gaze to the floor. She could feel the tension radiating from him, amused when she heard his muttered 'be like Sandy' being repeated like a mantra. Chairman Morris cleared his throat, frowning around at a room that was probably over it's occupancy limit.

''Knowing what, or should I say, **who**; we're all here to discuss, I believe we should begin.'' He nodded to his right, indicating Veronica to take her place at the podium. ''Keep in mind that this isn't a court of law, although I believe criminal charges have been mentioned.'' Ryan flinched and she squeezed his arm supportively, his free hand was clenched in a fist. ''Nonetheless, these proceedings will take place in a similar fashion. Speaking on behalf of our assaulted colleague, Miss Townsend.''

''Thank you, Mr. Chairman.'' Veronica paused for a triumphant look at the blonde boy, smirking at her daughter's horrified expression. The woman started to speak, painting a picture of a violent, dangerous young man who preyed on inexperienced girls, beating them until they obeyed him. The incident at the carnival was portrayed as the most recent 'attack' on an unsuspecting victim; an attack that Hess had attempted to stop, according to her. Murmuring from the crowd was growing louder, finally culminating in an outburst from, of all people, Julie Cooper-Nichol.

''What a pile of **bullshit**.'' Julie stood, anger blazing from her like a sun going nova. Everyone in the room turned to look at her in amazement, even Veronica was shocked silent.

''Mrs. Cooper-Nichol, you're out of line.'' Morris warned, tapping his gavel on the table.

''May I address the board?'' Her voice was honey-sweet, charm flowed pleading from her eyes. There wasn't a trace of her earlier anger, and Kirsten thrilled to see her friend in such top form. No one could manipulate the mood of a room like Julie.

''Have you finished?'' Morris addressed Veronica, who scowled, but yielded her place to the other woman. Julie took position at the podium, the smile she directed at the board had a sharp, cutting edge.

''I can't blame you for attacking him, Veronica. Lord knows, I did the same when he started dating Marissa; nearly kept him out of this school, in fact.'' Kirsten straightened in her seat, unaware that Julie had been the one to lead that charge. So much had changed, for everyone, since those early days. ''What mother wants her daughter out with someone **that** sexy, after all.'' Most of the room chuckled, Ryan flushed bright red and stared at the floor, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. Taylor just smiled, eyes twinkling, and he turned nearly purple at whatever the girl whispered into his ear, trying to glare (from under his eyebrows) in two directions at once. ''That's not why I know you're lying, though.'' Green eyes pierced Veronica to her seat, the accusation silencing everyone's amusement. ''Ryan doesn't attack women. He has been provoked, verbally and physically; by me, by my daughter, and even …..'' Julie blushed a little, but continued on determinedly. '' Even by a girl my daughter was dating. Despite all that, he has never raised so much as a **finger** against any one of us. Now, you all know my background, where I'm from.'' Kirsten felt respect for her friend climbing as she watched the woman hold her head high, confident and unashamed where she once would have been speechless and humiliated. ''I believe I can say, without a doubt; that Ryan Atwood doesn't have it in him to strike a woman.'' Her son jerked next to her, raising his eyes to lock gazes with Julie, frozen in obvious shock. She could've cheered, knowing that that one statement, from a woman who had once hated him; would do more to convince him of that truth than **hours** of pep talks from her or Sandy. ''It's just not who you are.'' Those words hit home, and she heard the shuddering breath he drew in, ducking his head to stare again at the apparently fascinating floor. Red tinged his ears and neck, but the earlier flush was fading from the rest of his face. ''So, since she's lying about **that**..'' her friend was continuing, staring matter-of-factly at the board ''….the rest of the story is highly suspect, don't you think?''

It was almost anti-climactic, watching Sandy call people up to speak for their son. Principal Kim praised his restraint: being harassed on a daily basis by 'less enlightened' students, telling the truth about the Oliver incident, and citing his model behavior since then. Mrs. Henderson stood up to talk about Ryan's work with S.A.D.D., his willingness to put himself between other people, even strangers, and danger. Kirsten would've been more encouraged by their testimony, if she hadn't seen the rising impatience in Morris's face, the victorious smirk lighting Hess' expression. Her son's stumbling rendition of the incident garnered sympathetic whispers from the crowd; but the board looked unimpressed and, in Morris' case, disbelieving. Just as her husband was taking the podium, the chairman interrupted his opening arguments.

''I'm hearing a lot of character assessment, a great deal of hearsay about the events of last night.'' He fixed Sandy with a hard stare, fingering his gavel. ''What I'm **not** hearing is any eyewitness testimony. Without any corroboration to your son's version of events, I think…….''

''Hey, is this the board hearing place?'' A teenage boy stuck his shaggy head in the door, smiling to see the startled assemblage of adults. ''Yeah, cool.'' He wandered in, ducking Zach's grasp and strolling forward towards the podium. ''I came to talk about Atwood, man.''

''Young man, you are out of order.'' The gavel tapped down, a lot lighter than Kirsten felt the man wanted to strike. ''Students may not address the board, you should join your parents and be quiet.''

''Oh, sure.'' The boy peered around the room, waving at a red-faced woman towards the back. ''Hey, mom.'' She recognized the blushing woman as Danielle Stanwick; a second generation Newpsie, living off her substantial trust fund and stock options. ''I just came to talk about Atwood and that guy he hit.'' She felt her heart start pounding hopefully, the entire room seemed to surge forward onto the edge of their seats.

''Am I to understand that **you** saw the altercation between Dean Hess and Mr. Atwood?'' Morris asked, leaning forward onto the table.

''Naw, I just saw the fight.'' There was some mild tittering, and the room started to buzz with excited speculation.

''Why is he only coming forward now?'' Hess finally spoke, directing his words towards the chairman; tone derisive and condescending. ''It's a very convenient ploy, a last minute witness.'' She wondered who his backer was, that he was so sure of himself, of his success with this façade of innocence.

''Dude, you think I'd lie for **Dorksend**?'' Taylor flushed and Kirsten felt her son's glare burn past her towards the other boy. The new arrival snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets, shrugging at the board's stares. Veronica seemed especially livid, though she kept her gaze locked on her daughter. ''You said that anyone who wanted to keep attending Harbor shouldn't get involved. Or something like that.'' The look Morris was giving the other man was measuring, and he finally motioned the boy forward, asking his name. ''Oh, Brad Stanwick, man.'' She hid a smile, watching Sandy clap Brad on the shoulder, every line of him screaming relief. ''So, should I just, like……..''

''In your own words….'' Most of the board smirked at their chairman's instructions. Having listened to the witness, thus far, she was eager to hear how he'd tell the tale herself. It was sure to be an entertaining rendition, that was for sure.

''Sure.'' Obviously looking for a place to start, Brad ran his hands through his hair, shaking himself like a large dog when he was done. ''Well, I was waiting for my buds, in the parking lot? We were gonna go find a party, y'know, 'cause carnival wasn't exactly kickin'. So, I heard the fence jingle, right, and looked over. Those two were making out …'' He indicated Taylor and Ryan, both of whom fidgeted at the attention. ''…and it was pretty freaking **hot**. I mean, I thought Do…Townsend was gonna give it up right there, man.'' The girl raised a trembling hand to press fingers to her forehead, flushing. Her son put his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, glaring at the other boy. ''That's when Mein Herr over here…'' He pointed at Hess, and Kirsten was glad to see that the man actually looked concerned. ''…..yanked her away from Atwood by the arm. Townsend kind of pushed him away from her, making him let go; and I thought she was gonna kick his butt for a minute, but then the dude just ….'' Brad raised his right hand, palm facing inward, looking like he was going to backhand someone. She heard a gasp, several people started muttering darkly. Sandy's fingers twined with hers, squeezing triumphantly as the teen finished his tale. ''He knocked her to the ground, and that's when Atwood tackled him. I was on my way over, y'know, 'cause it's really lame to hit a girl like that. I saw Atwood hitting him a couple times, and I thought he was gonna kill the guy, or something; but he stopped when Townsend called out to him. Guess she's got you on a short leash, man.'' Most of the room chuckled and Ryan shifted in his seat, keeping his arm around the girl next to him, who was now covering her face with both hands. Kirsten put a supportive hand on his shoulder, and he shot her a desperate, embarrassed look. She swallowed a smile at how adorable they both were, knowing that Seth would take care of all the mocking and teasing, later. ''That's pretty much it, dude. Nazi guy stood up and told everybody that they should stay out of it if they wanted to stay in school, like that; so I just went to that party with my buds. If mom hadn't left a note with Louisa, about this thing going down; I probably wouldn't've remembered.''

''You're saying that you only came down to 'help' your friend.'' Hess was patronizing, and he turned to Morris with a supercilious expression. ''I think we can see what's going on here.'' She frowned, opening her mouth to speak against the accusation that they had** anything** to do with Brad's somewhat colorful recounting, when the head of the board spoke, tone serious and unforgiving.

''Yes, I believe we can.''

The chairman tapped his gavel, frowning at his colleague. The board stood, retreating to gather against the wall behind the table. Most of the members seemed disapproving of the bruised man, except for Veronica Townsend, who was staring fixedly at her daughter. There was a feeling of the room holding it's breath, Morris consulting sotto voice with each member, save Hess; who became, if possible, even paler. Kirsten took Sandy's hand on one side, Ryan's on the other, as they returned to the table. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw her son take Taylor's hand, who gripped Summer's, who latched onto her other son. Amused by the unity, feeling Julie's encouraging grip on her shoulder, she awaited the board's decision.

''Mr. Atwood.'' The boy stood, disengaging from them, leaving her to take his girlfriend's hand in eager hope. ''It seems that removing you from this school would not only be unjust, but nearly criminal.'' Relief swept through the room, the kids in the corridor outside started cheering. She smiled at her husband, squeezing his hand in congratulations. ''You are due a formal apology from this institution, which I see is missing from the events involving Mr. Trask.'' Dr. Kim cleared her throat, looking uncomfortable. ''Further, it is obvious, at least to me, that while you** do** have some issues with controlling your temper; it is not any more dire than any other boy your age, and certainly not sufficient cause to place a precautionary letter in your file.'' Sandy finally relaxed completely, Morris gave everyone what he no doubt thought was a friendly smile. ''Let's have a brief recess, clear the room before we begin our next issue. Congratulations.''

The soft tapping of the gavel was lost in the cheers and shouting, the students surged into the room, clapping Ryan on the back. He shook their hands, looked amazed at the outpouring of support. Sandy had stepped forward to speak with the chairman; about Hess' future, from the look on the other man's face. Taylor was drawn away from the celebration by her mother's imperious gestures; the terrified expression on the girl's face made Kirsten frown. She left Seth entertaining the crowd of now-exiting teens at his brother's expense, following the pair deeper into the building. She lost them, briefly, around a corner, until raised voices led her towards any empty classroom.

''…..**any** idea how humiliated I am? What were you doing at that carnival, anyway?'' There was a soft murmuring, obviously Taylor, because Veronica responded. ''You're not **dating** him. Whoring isn't dating, he only picked you to make Cooper jealous. It's the only way he'd give an overweight, friendless freak like you a second look.'' Kirsten scowled, nauseated by the woman's disdainful treatment of her own daughter. She picked up her pace, wanting to reach the room before the girl was completely crushed. ''I've had enough of your behavior, you're going to boarding school. Go home and pack.''

''Mother!'' Taylor sounded horrified, there were tears in her eyes as Kirsten entered the room, freezing the pair in place. Veronica actually plastered a smile on her face, as if her voice hadn't carried her vitriol down the hall. Kirsten felt a calm sweep over her, confident she could handle this confrontation, as she had the crises last night. The other woman has **no** idea who she's just messed with, her thought sounded like her father and Sandy both.

''Am I interrupting?''


	4. Taylor

**A/N: ** In this corner: pre-senting……VEG….… Sorry, no fisticuffs this time. There is a face-off, though. Enjoy!

-- xxx –

_''Am I interrupting?''_

''Yes, as a matter of fact.'' Her mother smiled insincerely at Kirsten Cohen, tone patronizing and flat. ''My daughter and I were just discussing her future.'' What future? Taylor wondered to herself. When the transfer goes through, my life is **over**. The thought that the woman probably wouldn't even let her say goodbye to the first friends she'd ever had was painful.

She tried not to think about Ryan.

''So I heard.'' The click of the closing door sounded like a gunshot. Taylor wished it **was** a gunshot. A shooting would be easier to deal with than the disaster rushing towards them. **No one** could dissuade Veronica Townsend once she'd chosen a course of action; things got ugly when people tried. She didn't want to find out what her mother would find to say to Mrs. Cohen.

''Then you know we have great deal to do.'' Veronica motioned and she joined her mother, fighting back tears. Only the weak and pathetic cried, the memory of her mother's voice scolded her. Breaking down could wait until she was actually packing, alone in her room. Like she'd be for the rest of her life, she thought morosely. Alone.

''I don't think it's a good idea to transfer Taylor.'' Kirsten wasn't moving, standing in front of the room's only door as if prepared to stand there for the rest of time. The blonde woman crossed her arms confidently over her chest, face calmly determined. Unlike her mother, whose expression was sliding from a polite smile to scowling displeasure.

''Of course **you **don't think so, she's putting out for that juvenile delinquent of yours.'' Veronica snapped back, almost snarling the words. The shot against Ryan wasn't anything new; it was her next remark that made Taylor step back, away from the horrible person who was her only family. ''I'm sure a drunk like you will have no problem finding him a new whore.''

''Don't talk to her like that.'' She swallowed hard at the livid disdain in the grey eyes, the eyes of her mother. She searched the gaze for even a shred of affection, of maternal instinct. At this point she'd settle for mild concern for a fellow human being. The longer she looked the less nerve she had, finally dropping her head to stare miserably at the floor in defeat.

''Keeping her at Harbor doesn't have anything to do with my son.'' Kirsten's voice was firm and civil, there was no anger in her tone at all. Risking a look, she saw an expression of determined reason, no anger at all; until she got to the woman's eyes. Those green orbs were blazing with righteous ire. And they were directed at the brunette turning to face her, hands shifting to her hips. ''It's the best thing for your daughter …..''

''The best thing for my daughter? Staying here pretending to be Marissa Cooper?'' Veronica was scornful and haughty, snorting with her obvious amusement. Taylor felt her palms sweating and her stomach tightening. It wasn't the first time the woman had rolled out **that** theory as part of her critique; but it **was** the first time she'd done so in the presence of someone whose opinion the girl actually cared about. ''The social position, the boyfriend……'' Her mother turned her dark head to rake her with a disappointed look. ''If you'd just stuck with the **plan**, young lady, you wouldn't be in this mess. You only have yourself….'' What was this heat building inside her? Usually, her mother's rants made her feel small and ashamed (not that she wasn't feeling **that**, in spades) but there was a new sensation, **anger**; burning the others away.

''Would that be the plan involving Hess?'' Kirsten asked sharply, eyes narrowing at the suddenly pale other woman. The new sensation faded as Taylor covered her face with her hands in the force of the more familiar humiliation. She couldn't** believe** Ryan had told …..wait, no she **didn't** believe he would tell his mother about…... Which meant Kirsten thought the thing with Hess was a plan to oust her son from school, not a perverted attempt to secure Taylor's 'experience' and social position at Harbor.

But Veronica didn't know that.

''You don't have any proof.'' Her voice was far less confident than before. Taylor felt her own confidence rising as inspiration surged through her, buoying her spirits to near-giddy heights. She made a little signal to Mrs. Cohen, seeing the flicker of confused acknowledgment in the woman's green eyes.

''You don't honestly think I could've convinced Kirsten Cohen without **proof**, do you, Mother?'' She fought down a grin at the panicked expression that flitted across her mother's face. Veronica recovered well, unfortunately; opening her mouth to give a no-doubt vicious reply.

''Hess isn't the only situation we're talking about.'' Kirsten told the other woman, voice dangerously soft. The girl had to applaud her style. The 'lie-without-actually-lying' was a brilliant tactic. And it was working. Her mother had actually taken a step back; looking pale-faced from one to the other.

''I'm going to finish my senior year here at Harbor.'' Taylor informed her mother calmly, heady with this; her first victory against the woman who'd made her life a torturous misery. Just being able to **stay** didn't seem like enough, all of a sudden. It wouldn't cost her mother any more than she'd already spent; having sent the tuition check in over a month ago. That enraged, heated feeling was back, driving the urge to make the woman** pay** for years of suffering. ''I'll date whomever I like…..'' she continued ''…..and I expect Dad's child support payments to be deposited into **my** account; along with enough money to fund a** comfortable** six-year course of study at an ivy league college.''

''And if I don't accede to these…….demands?'' Her mother straightened arrogantly and she was amazed at the sheer **nerve** of the woman. Even when (supposedly) over a barrel, she was still trying to bully her way through.

''Sandy knows a great many people in law enforcement, including several close friends in Child Services.'' Veronica actually flinched, making her daughter fight against a surge of compassion. Reminding herself that she'd never received such consideration herself made it easier to go on. Kirsten was still speaking in that low, dangerous tone; gaze fixed on her opponent's face. ''You can't possibly manage to bribe everyone who owes my husband a favor.'' Most of them won't even **be** bribable, Taylor thought to herself; not with Sandy's ethical standards.

''I'm sure the newspapers will appreciate the boost to Monday's evening edition, too.'' Taylor put in, grimly setting the deadline. They had to move fast, before her mother managed to find out there **was** no proof and called their bluff.

''She still needs to pack.'' Veronica spat the words, dusting her shaking hands together dismissively. She appeared unaffected, only a small glimmer of fear remained in grey eyes as she looked at the other woman coldly. She didn't look towards Taylor at all. ''I won't have that ungrateful bitch under my roof one more night.'' The woman adjusted the jacket of her business suit, striding towards the door as if she was going to run right over Mrs. Cohen.

Without a word, Kirsten stepped aside; letting the other woman go. As the door slammed shut behind her, Taylor felt the reality of the situation hit her. She'd just blackmailed her own mother into giving her control of her life. It wasn't the realization that the woman was obviously into something illegal that unlocked the tears, that purged the heat of her anger from her. No, it was another, soul-chilling revelation that turned her away from the older woman, that made her hug herself in despair.

Her mother didn't care about her.

She'd always thought that, deep down (and despite all evidence to the contrary) her mother retained **some** small spark of motherly love. Some undying flame of affection for the life she'd brought into this world. Maybe even the regard you'd have for another person; that made total strangers hold open doors for you. Nothing. Not even the compassion one would show a kicked **dog** was hers. If her own mother couldn't bring herself to care if she lived or died, she thought miserably as the first choked sob broke free; how can anyone else? She felt Kirsten's arm go around her shoulders, supporting her as she struggled for control.

''I hate to say this …..'' Oh no. She was going to forbid her from seeing Ryan. The woman obviously wouldn't want someone like **her** dating her son; some cold-blooded control freak with a criminal (of some sort) for a mother. ''….but what a bitch.'' Shocked out of her tears (and tremendously relieved at the unexpected support), Taylor covered her mouth; too late to stop the giggle. Kirsten leaned her head sideways to rest comfortingly against hers, squeezing her shoulders reassuringly. Somehow, she felt better, more like she had before (and during) the carnival; heck, before she'd found out Hess wasn't as fired as she thought. Even when the woman released her, smoothing her outfit and shooting her a conspiratory smile; the feeling of contentment remained. ''Just don't tell my boys I said that.''

''Of course not, Mrs. Cohen.'' She promised, unable to stop the brief fantasy of what life would've been like if **this** woman had been her mother. No, that wouldn't be good; that would make her Ryan's **sister**. Their relationship was turning out to be weird enough without adding the image of incest (even adoption fantasy incest) to the mix. It was a little odd to be so consumed by someone you'd only known a week, after all. At least, she **thought** it was odd; she really didn't have much basis for comparison.

''Oh, call me Kirsten.'' Her heart swelled with affection and she hugged the woman impulsively. One day she might just end up your mother** anyway**, an inner voice whispered; and she pushed the thought back down, unwilling to mar the happier path her life was treading with a years-distant dream.

''Thank you, Kirsten.'' They both knew she meant for more than the permission to be on a first name basis. Just as she was about to continue the declaration of gratitude (and probably embarrass herself with her rambling admiration), there was a knock; followed almost immediately by the door opening.

''Hey.'' Ryan smiled at them both, frowning as he got a better look at her face. She shook her head, trying to convey that she was all right. He came over anyway, shooting an uncertain look towards his mother. ''What's wrong?'' His hand was comforting on her shoulder and she let herself drift into the ease of his presence. He started wiping the moisture gently from her face with his fingers, prompting her to rummage in her purse for a handkerchief.

''Taylor's moving out of her mother's house.'' Kirsten made it sound like they'd all made a reasoned decision, like there hadn't almost been an 'incident'. Although, if there had been; she got the feeling that the blonde woman would've been the sure thing. She was coming to realize her mother's defiant bravado wasn't as secure or strong as the other woman's quieter confidence. ''She's going to stay with us, for now. We've certainly got the room.'' Her heart swelled at the offer, she was taking breath to accept, when she saw his face.

There was a startled, almost panicked look in his blue eyes; the similarity to his expression the first day of swimming lessons told her exactly what he was thinking. Taylor could see that the thought of having her in his home, just a few rooms away; was going to be a problem for him. Poor boy wouldn't be able to sleep a wink, she thought delightedly; fighting the urge to sneak up to my room, sometime late in the night……..Her imagination finished the train of thought, painting a vivid, skin-tingling picture. Suddenly, staying at the Cohen's didn't sound like such a great idea to **her**, either. Thoughts of how **easy** it would be to slip into the pool house, maybe snuggle up to him in the dark……. She pulled herself out of the fantasy with an effort, harder to do with _**him**_ standing right in front of her, smelling so good…….. Desperation led her to whip around, face brightening as an alternate to mutual sheet-twisting torture presented itself.

''I'll move in with Summer.'' Kirsten looked startled (but not, thankfully, offended) at the blurted suggestion. ''She's always inviting me to sleep over; half my wardrobe is at the Roberts' anyway. They've got even more room than **you** do, and……'' Oh, how to put the next bit delicately without sounding like a shallow Newport bobble-head? ''Well, if I move in with you……'' She twitched her hand back and forth between her and her boyfriend, hazel eyes pleading for understanding; hoping she wouldn't have to actually** say** that people would think the two teens would be 'having it on' right in front of his parents.

''Oh! I guess I didn't think of that.'' Kirsten admitted, endearing her to Taylor all over again. The woman hadn't automatically assumed she was a giant slut, that was a new one. Kirsten Cohen was her new favorite woman, right up there with Julie Cooper-Nichol, whose speech had endeared her to Taylor forever for the effect it had had on Ryan. She knew he'd been worried about having actual abusive tendencies: it showed in how easily he'd believed Hess' scheme, how surprised he'd been at everyone's automatic disbelief that he was 'pathologically violent'. Julie's comments had wiped that from his attitude, hopefully for good. ''Well, you should at least come for dinner; once you've picked up your things, of course. Probably just take-out, if I know my boys.'' The woman gave her son a motherly smile, Taylor tried not to choke was it widened to include her.

''I found you, so I get to pick.'' Ryan told them, smiling a bit; still resting his hand on Taylor's shoulder. He slid it around to the other shoulder, tucking her under his arm with obvious affection as the group moved towards the door. She had a feeling of total peace, despite the fact she was about to be homeless. She'd have to remember to call the bank in the morning and remove her mother's access to her account if she didn't want to end up penniless as well.

''Pad Thai does sound good.'' The boy's mother commented absently, turning off the light as the three exited the room.

''Who says it would be Thai?''

'_**'It's your favorite**_.''

She and Kirsten spoke in unison, sharing a smile of mutual affection and complicity. Her boyfriend shrugged, apparently unconcerned with how well the two of them knew him. She slowed her steps as they approached the group waiting for them, causing him to glance down at her; stopping in the middle of the hallway, concern all over his face.

''What are they going to think?'' She answered his unspoken question. Now that she was finally free of her mother, she was scared and uncertain. She hadn't expected this liberation until after graduation; it felt too soon, too fast. ''What if Doctor Roberts doesn't want me in his house?'' The man **looked** friendly, flirting with Julie as he watched his daughter's animated conversation with several other girls, some of which she recognized from social committee. What would he be like to **live** with, though; what would his reaction be when he was asked to take in this total stranger? Well, not** total**, she'd been hanging out with Summer a lot this past week, but…….There was another reason to worry, right there. ''What if Summer decides it's too much drama?'' That was what had broken the friendship with Marissa, the constant drama. Okay, the constant drama and the taller girl's transformation into a bitchy whore. Sandy was shaking hands with Brad Stanwick, saying something to the boy's proud-looking mother; when he saw his wife approaching. The way his face lit up on seeing the woman, the way his attention narrowed and focused seemed familiar, but she couldn't shake the neurotic concern about her future long enough to think about it. ''What if the Cohen's…..''

''What if Trevor's emancipation party gets out of control?'' Startled more by the upbeat tone of voice than the words, she turned doubtful eyes to lock with his. Somehow, in all of her worrying, she'd never managed to wonder, not even for an instant, whether he'd stick with her. The solidity, the surety, of his presence was a comfort and she indulged her need for it; embracing him fiercely, burying her face into his chest. His strong arms came warmly around her, holding her steadily as she attempted to process the new structure to her life. Taylor appreciated that he didn't try to rock her (like a baby) or murmur soothing noises (like a parent would). He just held her, being the shelter she needed to weather her personal storm. As her trembling came to a stop and her muscles relaxed, he released her a little, brushing his thumb across her un-bruised cheek with one of his teasing little smirks. ''This'll be good for you; living with actual human beings, instead of……..''

''Ryan……'' She protested mildly, more at the sure to be 'colorful' language he was obviously intending to use than the habit of defending her mother. She caught his hand, entwining their fingers, melting in spark-ridden flames when he raised her knuckles to his lips. The collective 'aw' to their right snapped both their heads around to see the Cohen's, the Roberts', and Julie; all watching and waiting with varying degrees of patience. Taylor waved cheerily, too caught up in the new sensation of having people actually **like** her to be embarrassed. Besides, from the red tint to his cheeks, Ryan was going to be embarrassed enough for the both of them. Something about Sandy clicked with what her boyfriend had said and she gasped, dragging her guy towards the group in the flash of determined insight. ''Emancipation, emancipated minor; of course!''

She knew why she hadn't thought of it before, she'd been too scared, too caught up in the need to have someone in her life, even someone who hated her. The bare bones of it was laid out on the way to the parking lot; they agreed to fine tune the wording over dinner, filing the papers first thing tomorrow. Doctor Roberts seemed only too eager to have her move in, and Summer was positively ecstatic. Her friend had, apparently, always wanted a sister. She decided not to confess the brief loss of faith she'd had in the other girl, it would only hurt her feelings. The 'parental divorce' discussion got sidetracked as they discussed plans to redecorate the guest room across the bath from Summer's room. Ryan took that as a cue to leave, squeezing her hand briefly and pecking her cheek (blushing as the gesture garnered catcalls from the teens who hadn't yet dispersed) before he left. The expression on his face as he turned, one last time, to look at her struck her like a lightning bolt and she froze, caught up in finally remembering where she'd seen the look before.

''You okay?''

She nodded distractedly at Summer's father, smiling reassuringly as she got into her car. She waited until her thought completed before starting the engine, having no desire to become a depressing traffic statistic. That look in his blue eyes ……..It was a familiar look, she'd seen it on his face before: the first shopping trip, the swimming lessons, at drama club, all through the carnival……… It was a look that spoke of trust, desire, faith, affection, and a deep, burning connection. And she never would've known it for what it was if she hadn't seen it on someone else's face, earlier tonight.

If she hadn't seen it on Sandy's face, directing his love straight at Kirsten.

Was it even **possible**? Or was she just being 'crazy Taylor' again? Unlike the other emotional shocks tonight, this one was intoxicatingly positive. She **wanted** it to be true, she **wanted** him to feel for her even a little of what she felt for him; and not just because it would make their relationship less one-sided. No, she wanted him to feel it because it would make him **happy**, because she** knew** (like she'd known Kirsten was ready to come home) that she could give him the happiness he deserved, that together, they'd both be so ………well, happy. It wasn't a state of being she was all that familiar with, happiness, but she was learning. From Ryan and his family, from Summer and her friends; even from Seth.

With such instruction (and especially _**his**_ tutelage) Taylor thought she'd be an expert at being happy in no time.


	5. Marissa

A/N:For all those who were wondering what she was up to: this short and not very sweet chapter is for you. (cue villainous laughter)

-- xxx –

What was **taking** so fucking long? Marissa checked her watch, holding it up to her ear to make sure it was working. She spun her cell phone around on her desk with a dissatisfied expression. As much as she'd been tempted to attend the meeting with her mother (and see Ryan's face as he got what was coming to him), she'd ultimately decided not to run the risk of revealing her 'involvement' with Jack. Just thinking about it made her smile. He was **so** good, so **skilled**; but the best part was the feeling of power it gave her, to reduce a grown man to a shuddering, whimpering wreck with a twitch of her hips. He'd come through in other ways, too; beautifully. Not only was Ryan on his way out, but that tramp was going to be publicly humiliated in the bargain. Revenge on the other whores in social committee would have to wait until she got the phone call from her lover. Speaking of which…….she checked her watch again, tapping a key to confirm the time with the computer. The hearing was long over, not even Sandy Cohen could talk for this long. So where was her goddam victorious phone call? 

''Hey, Kiddo?'' Her Dad called out to her searchingly. She stood up from behind her desk, pocketing the cell. He's probably just trying to see what I want for dinner, she was thinking as she descended the stairs, when she caught sight of the man with Jimmie Cooper. She nearly gave the whole thing away, but swallowed her shock behind a plastic smile. ''Marissa, honey, I want you to meet Jack Hess.'' She shook hands like she hadn't been grinding herself into the man's lap only eight or so hours before and looked questioningly at her father. ''We have a little business to discuss, won't take long.'' 

The two men went into the study and closed the door. Frowning, she made her way around outside to the guest dining room (the Nichol mansion was huge) and out to it's balcony. Her father may be circumspect about locking doors and securing his data files; but he never remembered to close the stupid window. Guess living on his boat for so long had broken him of the habit, she thought as she eased silently into position. The men's voices traveled so clearly, it was as if she was standing on the study's balcony. 

''……you didn't exactly live up to your promises.'' Her father was saying harshly. She'd never heard him use that tone of voice with anyone, she hoped he was okay. ''You said it would be easy to get rid of a kid like Ryan Atwood; that it wasn't even a **challenge**.'' Was that what her father had meant in June? When he said that he'd take care of things? Her eyes welled up with the roaring surge of affection for the man. He was always looking out for her. ''Now you're saying he's still there?'' Wait, what? How had** that** happened? Jack was going to have some serious explaining to do if he wanted back in her good graces. 

''It didn't exactly help to have your ex-wife stand up and defend the little shit.'' Hess snarled. Marissa wasn't surprised to hear that Julie had, once again; ruined things for everyone. She'd think of an appropriate way to get her mother back, later; right now Jack was continuing. ''Morris wasn't exactly as hard-core as you claimed, either. He practically fell all over himself to exonerate the bastard.'' 

''Not really my problem.'' Jimmie snapped. 

''No, Cooper, it **is** your problem. Thanks to this disaster, I have to find a new line of work. It's **my** file that has the cautionary letter, now; and you're gonna pay for it.'' There was a long silence and she frowned, wondering if they were just going to sit there all night until her mom got back. ''You don't want Kirsten Cohen finding out that the plan to oust her precious ward was **your **idea, do you Cooper?'' Marissa felt a surge of anger towards the man. How dare he talk to her father like that? He should mind his place. 

''Fine.'' There was a sound of drawers being opened, swirling of locks, paper rustling. Jimmie's voice was strained as there was a sound of a paper sack. ''Quarter of a million dollars should do it.'' 

''Barely.'' 

She took the curt word as a cue to stop her eavesdropping, and made her way back to her room. He was leaving, he was just going to leave her. She threw one of her stuffed animals across the room in growing rage. He wasn't even going to say **goodbye**. Her father's footsteps on the stairs warned her to get control of herself. She'd be stuck having dinner with her Dad while her mother continued to suck up to the Cohen's and everyone who had hurt her got away unpunished. Jack especially deserved to be brought down for failing so miserably; but there was nothing she could……… Inspiration struck, and she quickly locked her door, smiling triumphantly for a brief instant before pushing her thumbs gently onto her eyelids until tears started to fall. 

''Marissa?'' Her father's voice rang with concern as he rapped gently on her door. 

''Is he gone?'' She whispered in a choked voice, barely loud enough to hear. She fought back another smile as her father confirmed Hess' departure. She opened the door carefully, peeking around as if unsure that the other man was in fact absent. 

''What is it kiddo?'' Jimmie asked, taking hold of her shoulders gently. He was such a good man, she really had to think about getting him a better woman than her mother (traitorous slut that she was). 

''Oh, Daddy!'' 

She threw herself into his arms, sobbing into his shirt. She allowed him to guide her over to the bed, to draw 'the truth' from her gently. The story she told him was a thing of beauty, if she did say so herself. Memories of Trey helped lend a sheen of veracity to her tale of a frightened girl seduced by an older, more experienced man with the worst of intentions. He got stiffer and stiffer, his tone colder and colder; finally excusing himself to 'take care of things'. As soon as he closed the door behind him, she smiled and went to wash her face. Her father's 'friends' (who bore a strong resemblance to hired thugs) would deal Hess his reward for failure, and for deserting **her**. 

Pity they wouldn't be able to frame Ryan for the shooting. 


	6. Summer

**A/N: **Sorry it's been so long. My muse had much evilness to discharge (Estates). Hopefully I can get this story done before she goes psycho again.

--xxx—

Life with Taylor Townsend was weird.

Not in a 'call-the-psych-ward' way, though; more in a 'I'm-dating-SethCohen-and-I-**like**-it' kind of way.

When they'd picked up the girl's things from her mother's house, for instance. The only belongings she took besides clothes, books, toiletries, and music were her computer, her trophies and awards, and her hope chest. Yes, a hope chest. A real, old-timey, 'let's start planning for the wedding at puberty' hope chest. Which was a little quirky, but the true weirdness was that she had stuff** in **it. Not spare stuffed animals or extra blankets, either. No, the hope chest had actual hope chest type things inside. A wedding-circle quilt made by Townsend's maternal great-grandmother, who'd passed away five years ago. Her Cotillion dress, that Summer admitted would make a lovely wedding gown (with very few alterations); and a square of embroidered silk (that Taylor had _stitched herself_) that read 'you don't find true love, it finds you'.

Weird.

Then there was the morning after they'd moved her into the Roberts', into the room across the bath from Summer's, to be exact. Summer had woken early, excited about the first **real** school day of senior year, and rushed downstairs thinking she'd set the clock wrong when she saw that her new roommate (okay, more of a house-mate) was already up. She'd charged into the kitchen to grab a juice on her way out the door, and right into the making of crepes. Crepes, for breakfast. 'Because size zero was a fad, and the two of us are far too cool for fads', the chipper girl at the stove had said. Apparently, Taylor loved to cook and had never gotten the chance at home and had decided (in her typical way) that **this** was how she would pay Summer and her father back for taking her in: by cooking them breakfast every morning. It was really hard to argue with her when the food smelled so good and her friend looked so anxious about being 'useful'. And be so weirdly thrilled at the littlest compliment. 'Looks good' or 'great food' would put a smile on her face that lasted well into the day.

Which was good, because if there was any **bad** weirdness to this situation, it was at school.

'Whore' was the kindest thing being whispered about Taylor, and Summer couldn't understand why the girl wouldn't respond (or allow her friends to respond) to the gossip-fed vindictiveness. After the hearing, Summer had thought that the school was solidly behind the couple, that there wasn't going to be any backlash from Brad's version of the make-out session. Wishful thinking, apparently, because there were catcalls, there were leers, and there were the stupidest guys in the world hitting on her friend every time they turned around. Only one had gotten grabby, but after Taylor had Tae Kwon Do'd him into the nurse's office, no one else had been brave enough to get hands-on. Atwood had just laughed over the incident, another level/point of weirdness for her chart; because pre-Townsend, he definitely would've gotten all broody and violent. Now, he just smirked and offered his girlfriend some tips on 'anger management', putting his arm around her shoulders to walk her to lunch and showing a level of relaxed comfort that she would've chalked up to the two having it on, if she didn't know for a fact that they weren't, and hadn't, as yet, done the deed.

She knew because Taylor had provided way, **way** too much information in their little 'girl chats' about the men in their lives. She didn't need to know, for instance, about her new friend's fantasies about ……..no, she wasn't going to think about it, because her mind could paint far too graphic a picture, especially after her friend had showed her the parts of the Karma Sutra she was referring to. And while some of it looked like something she might like to suggest to Seth, thinking of that stuff with regards to a guy she thought of as kind-of-almost-a-brother-type friend …….ew. Just………ew.

Atwood certainly wasn't having any problems with the student body, Seth would've told her if there'd been any negativity directed at his brother. Somehow, people had elevated the blonde boy to the level of a folk-hero while mysteriously vilifying his girlfriend in the same breath. She'd heard several stories about how the whole Hess thing was a plot to get Taylor into Ryan's good graces and therefore maneuver Sandy into taking down Veronica on her behalf. The girl may have her schemes and plots, but she wasn't nearly as Machiavellian as the rumor mill was painting her out to be; and this was the same rumor mill that labeled her a 'dupe' in Hess's plot or that said she'd 'gotten what she deserved', at the carnival, for breaking up Harbor's golden couple. There was only one explanation for such schizophrenic viewpoints on the part of their fellow students. Well, aside from sheer stupidity, which wasn't quite out of the realm of possibility, not with some of these, as Taylor put it, 'bobble-heads'. No, she was pretty sure she knew what was going, and who was behind it. Only someone who'd been on top, who'd ruled with unchallenged authority, could manipulate popular opinion like this.

Marissa.

That's what she was doing here in the hall outside her former friend's sixth period class. What she **wanted** to be doing was attending the social committee meeting and helping Tay plan the next school event. Between her own feel for popular opinion and the other's phenomenal planning skills, everything this year was sure to be awesome, especially prom. She also hated leaving her friend to face the whispers and snide comments of the fickle student body by herself. However, since the meeting was the only place (and people) that didn't lambast the other girl, she'd felt safe leaving her housemate to go it alone while she dealt with the far more worrisome detail of what the heck Marissa thought she was doing.

''Can we talk?'' She asked the blonde, taller girl, tilting her head towards an empty classroom enquiringly. ''Alone?'' She knew she'd have a better chance of getting the truth (and maybe reaching 'Coop') if they didn't have an audience.

''Well, if it isn't Jonah.'' Summer rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to correct the remark, figuring the platinum blonde (this week's top sycophant, apparently) wouldn't get it even if she explained that **Judas** was the traitor (which **she** wasn't, really) and **Jonah** was involved with a fish (or some sort of ocean critter). Something was fishy, all right, but **Summer** wasn't the source of it.

''Sure, Sum.'' Marissa gave significant looks to her little crowd of hangers-on, who giggled and nudged each other. The brunette ignored the reaction, being more concerned with getting to the bottom of her suspicions. ''What's on your mind?'' She asked as soon as the door was closed behind the two.

''Why are you attacking Taylor?'' Summer crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot when she didn't get more of a response beyond a lift of eyebrows. ''I can understand why you'd go after Ryan, it was a pretty ugly break-up; but why go so hard after her? She hasn't done anything to you, directly.'' Or indirectly, really, but she figured **that **observation would bring a melodramatic end to the conversation, and she wanted to talk, to see if there was anything left of the girl she'd once thought of as a sister. ''After living with her for a while, I can tell you she's not as bad as we thought.'' She wasn't, either. Weird, yes; evil-attention-seeking-whore, no. She had a sudden, sick-gut feeling she knew who was entitled to **that** description, these days.

''Nice to see you're still doing charity.'' Marissa's voice was biting, sharp. She'd never looked more like her mother in her life, only Julie tended to have a softer, smoother cover to the bitchiness. Her former friend either wasn't bothering, or just couldn't pull off the necessary subtlety. ''First Seth, now Taylor, who's next, I wonder? Going to adopt a puppy? Oh, wait, you already have; she moved in last week.''

''I can't be**lieve** you.'' It looked like she wasn't going to recover her former friend, this encounter. A little more of the hope she had been holding for that relationship died as she started to get angry on her new friend's behalf. Stay calm, she thought to herself, be more like……..uhm, Kirsten? Yeah, Kirsten was cool and collected. Be like Kirsten. ''You're piling crap onto a girl just because she's dating your ex? You said you hated him, that he 'deserved to be punished' or something like that. Why…….''

''This **is** punishing him.'' There was a cold and stony look on the beautiful face, and the brunette was actually starting to get a little scared. She didn't know the person behind those flat blue eyes, she didn't **want** to. ''He cares more about his friends than himself, so………'' A disinterred shrug, a toss of hair over one toned shoulder; a complete lack of concern for the consequences of her actions. Who was this heartless **bitch** wearing the other girl's face? Was there **anything** there that remembered when the two of them had shared everything? ''Besides, it's a little hard to get things going against him with most of the school convinced he's some kind of fucking saint.'' The smile that flitted across her lips was dark and Summer swallowed against the urge to smack it off the tanned face. ''Everyone hates Taylor, though. It was easy.'' The urge to smack was stronger, with the smugly satisfied expression facing her. She clenched her hands into fists and fought it back.

Barely.

''You unbelievable **bitch**.'' Summer gasped, stunned that she'd just ……..admitted it like that. She was starting to feel the familiar narrowing of her vision for a rage blackout, she'd better wrap this up before things got out of control. Senior year would suck if she got kicked out for slapping this girl around, deserved as it might be. ''After all he's done for you, after all he's been through **because** of you; how could you do this to him? Just because he dumps you, he has to give up** any** happiness at all? Ever?''

''You seem awfully concerned there, Sum.'' Azure narrowed balefully, suspiciously. A teasing smirk failed to light anything but disdain in her expression. ''You know, he still won't id the girl he cheated on me with……….'' Nausea choked the anger from her at what the other girl was suggesting. ''Something you want to confess before you go running back to the enemy?'' Her rage flooded back and she snorted in disbelief at her own naïveté regarding a positive outcome to this conversation.

''I've never heard anything so ridiculous in my life.'' She snapped, disappointed when the blonde girl moved out of her way before she could be shoved. She yanked open the door, trembling with the force of just how pissed off she was. The perfect parting shot occurred to her and she turned her head, brown eyes burning black as she delivered it. ''Just so you know, Marissa, **Taylor** isn't your worst enemy.''

''I suppose that would be you?'' Cooper leaned back against a table, feigning a yawn with the strength of her unconcern.

''No.'' She waited until the blue gaze met hers, until she had the girl's complete attention. ''It's you.'' Slamming the door was nearly anti-climatic, after that. Exiting the room, charging through the waiting Marissa-groupies, she wanted to scream and hit things as fiercely as she wanted to cry. Depressing as it was to think that her former friend had fallen that far in just six months; she knew it wasn't true.

Truth was that she'd **always** been like that, and Summer was only now seeing it; and that was the most depressing thing about the whole business.


	7. Julie

**A/N; Little short, sorry. Going out on a good note, though. Enjoy!**

--xxx—

She looked down at the files on her desk and knocked back another shot of Jack Daniels. She was the boss, she could have drink at …….Looking at the clock, she saw it was just past six. Well, not-so-happy hour it is, then. Another glance at the files and she poured herself a fresh drink. It was times like this that made her hate being smart and observant enough to figure things out. Even if she'd had to hire an expert for the details; somehow she'd always known, deep down, that this is what was going on. Now all she had to do was decide what to do about it.

No, Julie thought morosely, rising to pluck the warm paper from her printer. I know what to do, I just wish………

''Hello, Jules.'' Jimmie came in, smiling, putting his arms around her from behind. He kissed her cheek, completely oblivious to her sour mood and released her to slouch into one of the chairs in front of her desk. She handed him the freshly-printed page and he frowned at it. ''What's this?''

''Your resignation.'' She returned to her side of the desk, placing a pen before him as she sat down. Her ex-husband was staring at her in simplistic confusion. She sighed, gathering the other files on her desk together briskly. ''I know, James.'' There was silence, then he put the resignation down on her desk and shook his head.

''Now that Kirsten's back, don't you think that **you're** the one who's out of here? She's my oldest friend and you're not exactly …….qualified for the job now that Cal's out of the picture.'' His voice was cold and sharp, a tone he'd never used with her. She was relived, thankful that they weren't going to pretend to be friends. ''I seriously doubt you'll be able to convince anyone…….''

''That you're embezzling money?'' Julie interrupted, tapping the files together pointedly. His blue gaze focused on the manila folders. She smiled, dropping them into a drawer. ''Yes, why would anyone would believe **that**?'' He was quiet, he shifted his gaze to hers briefly, then away. Every move he made screamed 'guilty', even without the evidence now locked in her desk.

''How can you do this to me, Jules? To our girls?'' He was trying to plead with her, trying to play the family card. If he hadn't run away like a spoiled baby the last time they'd reached a crises (last time she needed him), she might have actually bought it. As it was, the tactic just pissed her off.

''How can **you**?'' She leaned forward, folding her hands together on top of her now-clean desk. The resignation (and waiting pen) resting significantly between them. ''Didn't you learn anything from the last time?''

''I learned who my friends **really** were.'' She ignored the dig, meeting his eyes with a clear conscience. Whatever she'd done in the past (for her family, for their security and happiness) she'd begun her amends weeks ago. He wasn't even to the point of admitting he had been wrong, **done** wrong.

Was wrong now.

''I'm **being** your friend, Jimmie.'' She softened her tone, remembering how much she'd loved him, once upon a time, before she had her eyes opened to the reality beneath this fairytale existence. ''I'm giving you an out, a way to avoid prison.'' Julie wasn't trying to save her ex, he more than deserved to be put away, to suffer the consequences of his actions. She was doing this for Kiki, for the only person who thought she was worth a damn. Sandy's trust in her was too recent, they had too much history for her to accept his faith in her abilities. It was different with Kirsten, they'd suffered the same jolting loss of Caleb Nichol, been through so much to come to a place where they were allies instead of rivals. ''You tell people that you've been considering a job offer and were just waiting for Kiki to come back before taking it.'' She opened a different drawer, placed an envelope on the desk next to the resignation. ''That's half a million dollars. Take it and your boat and sail away.'' For good, she thought inwardly. It was just too hard when he kept coming back, better he should go and stay gone.

''And if I don't?'' He was actually going to call her on it. She picked up the phone, stifling the compassion that rose up in her when his eyes widened fearfully. He picked up the pen and she returned the receiver to it's cradle, keeping her sigh of relief internal. He signed the document, folded it over and handed it to her with a scornful look. ''Looks like you win. Julie Cooper-Nichol: Newport's reigning manipulative bitch.'' Jimmie spoke with angry disgust as he snatched the envelope from her desk. He only paused for a moment, wide eyed at her response; before turning and stomping from the office like a spoiled child.

''There's only room for **one,** James.''


End file.
